


The Problem with Captain Bullock

by Filthycasual, owlettica



Series: The Dick -n- The Ass [2]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Angst, Biting, Boxcutter addition, Brooding, Grabbing, Harvey's POV, Intimidation, M/M, Rivalry, Rough kisses, Sex, Stalking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2018-08-04
Packaged: 2019-06-21 18:09:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15563508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Filthycasual/pseuds/Filthycasual, https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlettica/pseuds/owlettica
Summary: This is part of the Boxcutter fic and Harvey's POV.Harvey Bullock makes a startling discovery about his best friend, Jim Gordon. The revelation spurs the GCPD captain to make decisions that put both men into harrowing situations.





	1. Blue Impala

**Author's Note:**

  * For [owlettica](https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlettica/gifts).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Captain Bullock heads to Gordon's apartment to check on him after the onslaught at the future Iceberg Lounge. He discovers someone else already has Jim's care well in hand.

 

 

Harvey wakes; it’s earlier than his usual noon rise on the weekends. He groans as he sits up; every joint in his body pops and snaps in defiance of the subtle action. He slowly shuffles towards the bathroom for his customary morning ritual. After his long meeting with the commissioner yesterday, he needed last night to unwind. He hung out at Bernardo’s bar till ten, slamming down shots of whiskey and nursing a couple of beers. It was nothing compared to benders of nights long past. He didn’t want to get too shitfaced; he had a wounded friend to go check on.

Harvey starts humming “Strangers in the Night” as he pisses into the toilet. He spent the evening conversing with a hot number and was lucky enough to get her digits before they parted ways. She seemed adamant they head back to her place, but he had to take a raincheck. He plans on giving her _the goods_ after he swings by Jim’s for some breakfast.

Harvey chuckles when he remembers the conversation on the phone with the doped up detective. He shakes the last droplet off of him and flushes.

_I probably should make sure he goes easy on them painkillers. He prolly took one and got himself all loopy. I bet he’s never taken any substance other than prescriptions in his squeaky clean life._

He brushes his teeth, washes his face, and combs his hair with a quickness. He chooses an outfit from the piles of clothes on the floor that doesn’t stink to high heaven. He dresses in haste and hurries out the door.

Harvey approaches a food truck run by a close friend who specializes in breakfast sandwiches and plain black coffee.

A dark muscular man is leaning on the metal counter as he beams a wry grin at the GCPD captain. The purveyor mockingly gruffs, his voice deep and thunderous.

“Yo, Bullock! It’s seven in the damn mornin’, what’cho ass doin’ up so fuckin’ early? No drinkin’—no _ass_?”

Harvey shoots the man a grin and quips back.

“Hey Dion! I don’t need all nighters to land a bird or a buzz. Make it two orders of the usual. So how you doin’? How’s your mom?”

Harvey digs out his wallet and watches as the man starts on his usual breakfast order. Dion looks back at Harvey and replies as he tends to the griddle.

“I’m doin’ great now that I have permits for dat business park in central. My mom’s kickin’ cancer’s ass! She’s a tough old broad, dat’s for damn sure.”

Harvey smiles and nods his head.

“That she is! Hell, she has you as a son; I would expect no less of her.”

Dion chuckles. He looks over his shoulder at Harvey after cracking several eggs onto the hot surface.

“Yo, I heard ‘bout the shootout at dat one club. I also heard a few _cops_ got shot.”

Harvey taps his wallet on the counter and nods.

“Minor wounds, thank god. I’m gonna to go check on Jim this mornin’; he was with the first responders.”

Dion nods as he adds cheese and pepper to the egg scramble. He gruffly adds as he gives Harvey another quick glance.

“Heard dat Penguin guy is back. I also heard had somethin’ to do with him tryin’ to claim more territory. Man, watch over him closely; wherever his weird ass goes, trouble’s to follow.”

Harvey nods as he scratches his beard. Dion was once a gangster with his own turf to war over, but after losing his only son to gang violence he left that all behind. The only reason Harvey hasn’t jailed him is because Dion is a valuable informant; also his breakfast is to die for. After a couple of years they became close friends. Harvey comes to him when he needs a sounding board on topics of gang movements. Harvey didn’t ask him about his thoughts on the violence that inevitably ended at the Sirens; he had been out of town with his ailing mother.

Dion slaps the sandwiches together and places them in a bag. He then serves up two black coffees and places them in a cardboard carrier. He leans on the surface as Harvey digs out his money. The dark man’s expression hardens but he nods and says.

“Harv, I heard a bit of news. Not sure if it matters but, dat Penguin has some major muscle now.”

Harvey lays out a twenty and raises an eyebrow at his friend. He quickly states.

“Victor Zsasz? Yeah, I know ‘bout him. I was hopin’ he’d follow Carmine down south.”

Dion shakes his head.

“Not just Victor, he has dem Indian Hill freaks too. Whatever he’s up to, I’m sure it’s gonna make life hell. Watch yo ass old man.”

Harvey nods and takes the breakfast items.

“Keep the change; it’s good to have you back.”

 

___________

 

  
Harvey heads over to Jim’s pad. He circles the building; he hates trying to find a parking spot that doesn’t require him to walk two blocks. The complex has assigned parking but nothing for visitors. He drives to the back; there’s sure to be a couple he can maneuver into. He sees a space and mutters as he pulls in.

“Hot damn, must be my lucky mornin’!”

He parks behind a dark blue Impala; Harvey’s eyes light up. He whistles as he places his car in park; he always had a thing for classic muscle cars.

He gathers the breakfast bags and the two coffees in the flimsy cardboard carrier. He walks past the Impala as he eyes the clean lines. He then feels the carrier give way, one of the coffee cups topples over and the other threatens to go with it. Harvey quickly adjusts to save the last coffee. To his dismay, hot liquid splashes everywhere; his shoes are drenched. He huffs as he shakes the spilled coffee from his sneakers.

“Fuck!”

Harvey turns back to his car and throws the empty coffee cup and torn carrier into the backseat. He walks past the Impala again and notices coffee on the passenger side door from the splash up. He grabs a few paper napkins from the breakfast bag and gives it a wipe down. As he stands his eyes take a peep inside the car; he notices something that grabs his attention.

On the passenger seat are glossy promos for a club called “The Iceberg Lounge”. Harvey squints; there’s a familiar face on the sheets of advertisements. His eyes widen when he realizes it’s Oswald on the promo flyers. The small man is dressed to the nines; his hair combed back and coiffed. He’s sitting in a large throne-like chair with an expected date for opening night next to his picture.

Harvey takes a step back and looks around. His mind is racing with thoughts about yesterday’s shootout and his phone conversation with Jim last night.

_“Hey—I need to go now.”_

_“Jimbo, I’m gonna come over with some food, unless you’re ‘bout to sleep. I can come over in the mornin'.”_

_“I’m good. Zsasz is here changing my bandages; fuck is he rough…_ ”

Harvey thought he heard someone else with Jim but dismissed it. He also dismissed what Jim blurted as nothing more than drug-fueled hallucinations. Harvey’s face screws up into an expression of disbelief.

_But—Zsasz?! Com’on old man, you’re lettin’ your imagination run wild. Jimbo isn’t friends with Zsasz!_

Harvey gut wrenches; things are starting to add up like Jim’s changed demeanor since returning back to the GCPD after his infection with the Tetch Virus. He works long hours and has done some sketchy things while on duty.

He followed Jim one night and watched as the man engaged in a bar fight. The look on his friend’s face was unsettling. It was dark, _primal_ as he pummeled his assailants to the ground. Harvey wanted to pull Jim away that night but opted to just watch and follow his best friend. He planned on approaching Jim about his concerns over his changed mental state. He just didn’t know when to do it, yet.

He pushes the thoughts aside and glances at the Impala once more. He turns back to his car and sets the breakfast stuff on his hood. He digs into his jacket, taking out a pen along with his receipt from Dion’s food truck. He eyes the plates on the Impala and scribbles the numbers down.

Harvey fishes out his phone and calls the GCPD.

“The vehicle is registered to someone named John Smith. License is up to date, age twenty-six, no arrests or outstanding tickets.”

Harvey shuffles on his feet and takes in a big sigh.

“Sounds like a phony alias— _John Smith_. Alright, thanks Rodriguez.”

Harvey collects the breakfast and heads towards Jim’s apartment on the second floor. He reaches for the door knob to enter; Jim had a habit of never locking his apartment.

He nearly crumples their breakfast against the solid door expecting it to swing open as he leans in. He scrunches his face and eyes the locked portal. He tries peeking through the window to the right of the door. The blinds are down but not all the way; he bends over to peek inside. He sees a dark empty kitchen; the lights are off.

Harvey shuffles the bag of food and the cup of coffee into one hand and presses the door bell. He immediately pounds on the door and calls out with a loud sing-song voice.

“Jimbo! Wakey Wakey! Eggs and bacon!”

Somewhere from above a disgruntled male voice barks out.

“Hey! Shut the fuck up! It’s early, asshole!”

Harvey clenches his jaw, looks up, and barks back.

“Hey, people are tryin’ to sleep! Quiet!”

Harvey waits a few seconds and tries the door knob again; he remembers that Jim’s door has a tendency to stick at times. He pauses from his attempt when he hears Jim holler from the inside.

“Hold up! I’m coming!”

The door cracks open and Jim’s face appears through a sliver. Harvey raises an eyebrow and scans his face. The detective is wearing one of his pained smiles that Harvey has come to know as _Jim’s in distress_ look. A few seconds pass and Harvey impatiently huffs at his friend.

“Dude, let me in! I have breakfast and hot coffee.”

Jim smiles nervously and whispers.

“Harvey, I’m very grateful for breakfast but I have company.”

Harvey already figured that Jim may have company; again, things are lining up. Coincidences are giving credence to his suspicions, especially with the car out back registered to a phony sounding alias that happens to have Oswald promo flyers. He goes about his usual tact: humorous and chummy. He feigns excitement as he drawls.

“Oh yeah? Is it _Foxglove_ company? You dog!”

Harvey examines Jim as he nervously laughs and agrees with the question. He knows Jim is lying; the high strung detective would never agree to such a thing even if it was true. Harvey keeps his wide smile as Jim quickly replies in a hushed toned.

“Yes, the same. I will call you later if you don’t mind…”

Jim starts closing the door but Harvey quickly shoots out his hand against the solid wood. He wants to go inside to see for himself if his suspicions are true. He questions the flustered man.

“Jimbo! I brought breakfast! Can I at least meet her?”

Jim’s face turns a shade of red as he tries to push the door closed. Harvey scoffs in his head at Jim’s feeble attempt to win in a battle of strength. He smirks as Jim struggles, the detective retorts with a strained voice.

“No! She’s naked and showering.”

Harvey laughs; his free hand still pushing undeterred. He quips back smugly.

“Well, I hope she’s naked in the shower or her clothes are going to be soaked.”

Harvey raises an eyebrow when Jim relents. The detective is clenching his jaw, his brow furrowed. Harvey’s eyes do a quick scan of the apartment behind Jim—nothing out of the ordinary.

He feels the bag of food ripped from his hand. Jim counters quickly as he shuts the door.

“I’m truly sorry! But you should have called. I will call you later-okay-bye!”

Harvey watches as the door slams in his face.

_Well fuck me for bein’ concerned._

Harvey takes a deep breath and sighs. He then shouts at the closed door.

“What ‘bout your coffee?”

He hears the detective’s exasperated voice from the other side.

“Keep it!”

Harvey pauses a second then turns and hustles down the stairs.

_He’s hidin’ somethin’. Somethin’ big._

Harvey stops at the bottom of the stairs and thinks a bit. He looks down the alley where Jim’s staircase is situated. He spies some large bins he can take cover behind. From that vantage point, he can see who comes and goes from the apartment and not be seen.

He makes his way to the large metal bins and tucks himself behind them. After about five minutes, he hears Jim’s door open. The detective is addressing someone in his apartment.

“Let’s go get breakfast. You will have to drive though.”

Harvey hears another voice respond; it’s muffled and faint.

He waits, his heart racing over the dreaded visual confirmation. Two figures make their way down the stairs. In the cold gray light of the morning he recognizes the second figure. Harvey’s stomach drops; walking behind Jim is Victor Zsasz.

_Now, hold on you stupid idiot! Maybe Zsasz is forcin’ Jim into somethin’. Follow them to make sure._

He watches the both of them head to Jim’s car. He’s now sure that the Impala belongs to Victor. The pale man purrs.

“Waffles! I need _two_ orders after whatcha put me through last night and _especially_ this mornin’. Gotta get my strength back.”

Harvey’s eye grow large when Zsasz rears back his left hand. Bullock reaches for a pipe leaning against the wall next to him; he intends to lay the assassin out before he can assault Jim. There’s a loud smack; Harvey emerges from his hiding spot with the pipe in both hands. He’s about to charge Victor but stops in his tracks. To his horror, the assassin is now grabbing Jim’s ass. He quickly retreats back to the bins, the pipe still in his grasp. His face is screwed up at what he just witnessed; he turns his head and peeps in between the bins. Harvey watches as Jim playfully admonishes Victor for the action. The assassin holds up his hands and grins salaciously.

_What the fuck?_

Harvey continues to watch dumbstruck as Victor gets behind the wheel of Jim’s car. He then turns and helps Jim buckle in. Once they are out of sight, Harvey emerges from his hiding space and throws the pipe down. He thinks for a second.

_Waffles, huh? They’re probably goin’ to the Griddle House._

Harvey hustles to his car and heads to the breakfast joint a few blocks from Jim’s building. He notices that Victor parked Jim’s sedan upfront. Harvey takes the back way to the restaurant so he’s not noticed. After he exits his car, he digs into the trunk and yanks out an old dirty hoodie he chucked in there a few weeks ago. He pulls the hood over his head and walks up to the busy establishment.

He peers around the corner through the glass doors. Jim and Victor are making their way to a corner booth out of view of the door. Harvey snatches a newspaper and covers his face as he hustles inside. He spies an empty booth behind theirs and quickly slides in before they can look up and see him.

A waitress comes over and takes their order. Harvey has his back towards their booth, Jim is seated directly behind him.

“Two waffles for me with whipped cream and strawberries also some coffee, please.”

Harvey huffs to himself. It’s Jim’s customary breakfast when he’s in a good mood.

“Yeah, I’d like four waffles and the three piece fried chicken with a tall glass of milk. Oh, and two waters, please.”

Harvey hears what sounds like a bottle of pills rattling.

“Your antibiotics. I would hate for your right arm to fall off, considerin’ how... _skilled..._ you are with it.”

Harvey hears Jim chuckle then sounds of shuffling. Zsasz is getting up to sit next to Jim in the booth. Harvey glances over his shoulder and witnesses as the assassin leans in and nuzzles Jim’s neck. Harvey quickly turns back around and chokes on thin air. He tries to cough quietly into his hoodie sleeve.

A waitress comes to his booth, Harvey beckons her to come close as he requests a coffee. He had been hungry earlier but lost his appetite after discovering Jim’s dirty little secret.

Harvey hears what sounds like kissing. He wants to turn around but refrains; he just didn’t have it within him to see Jim lip-locked with the infamous killer. He hears Zsasz moan and chuckle under his breath.

“If you keep lookin’ at me with _that look_ I’ll have’ta insist on round two.”

Jim whispers something that Harvey isn’t able to decipher. Zsasz sighs and replies.

“Nah, but I _should_. The Boss had me and the team on clean up duty.”

There’s a pause as the assassin intakes a small quick breath, his voice low as he speaks.

“I shoulda been the one to warn _you_ ‘bout the gangs.”

“We don’t owe each other any information about what goes on beyond, well, whatever _this_ is. This is separate from work. Right?”

More sounds of kissing.

“Yeah. It is.”

Harvey leans both elbows on the table and hangs his head.

_What the fuck, Jim? First you start actin’ funny, now—this?_

He sees his cup of coffee slide next to him. He lays three dollars on the table and sips his hot brew. He keeps an ear out for the two men behind him for any information that might be pertinent to whatever Jim is up to. Harvey can feel his stomach churn hard; discovering Jim’s secret love affair with Victor Zsasz is unsettling on its own. The fear creeping up his spine, however, is Jim might secretly be working for Oswald.

_Jim would never—ever! Shit, what da’ fuck do I know? I believed Jim a stellar example of the badge, but since returnin’ he hasn’t been himself._

Harvey drinks down several cups of coffee, listening in as Zsasz and Jim eat. Sounds of kissing along with soft murmurs of carnal desires are all that the two engage in throughout their meal. He then hears Zsasz summon the waitress and pay for the breakfast. The two stand and leave the establishment.

Harvey doesn’t budge from the booth; after a few minutes he summons the waitress over and orders one waffle. He leans back in his seat and sighs a deep breath. Once his breakfast arrives, his phone begins to buzz; it’s Jim.

Harvey lets it ring as he finishes with his meal. He isn’t in the mood to talk to the detective just yet. Twenty minutes later, he’s in his car; Harvey takes a deep breath. He stares at his phone and rubs his beard a couple of times.

He dials out to Jim.

“Harv! Hey, sorry about this morning.”

Harvey grimaces but answers with his typical candor.

“Hey, it’s all good man. What’s up? Need anythin’?”

“I plan on visiting my mother, I wanted to head out tonight. Is there any chance I can extend my convalescent? I want to take an additional seven days. I have more than enough sick days to cover it. I...uh, just _need_ a break from Gotham for a couple of weeks.”

Jim ends the sentence with a strained chuckle. Harvey puffs out a long breath.

_Maybe he needs to go home for a bit. Perhaps it will do him some good._

“Harv?”

“Yeah, you need the time away from here. Maybe you’ll come back renewed and back to your old self.”

There’s silence for two heart beats.

“Uh, yeah. Maybe. Need me to come in and fill out the paperwork?”

“Nah, I’ll handle it. You sure ‘bout drivin’ three hours? Don’t want you gettin’ into an accident.”

“I’m not taking the pain meds. I’ll be ok. I slept well enough last night.”

“Ok, see ya when you get back. Oh hey, Friday on your birthday I have Bernardo shutting down the bar. So make sure you make it back Friday morning to the precinct. Okay?”

Jim lets out a small chuckle.

“Sure thing. Thanks, Harv. See you then.”

Harvey chunks the phone onto his passenger seat and sits in deep contemplation.

_He ain’t workin’ for Oswald; I bet my life on it. He’s been pullin’ overtime and workin’ his ass off. He doesn’t have time to do that little twerp’s biddin’. Whatever he’s got goin’ on with Zsasz is probably just him actin’ out, searchin’ for comfort. He’s been miserable since Lee. But—fuck, Zsasz? I had no idea Jim swung that way, much less to give a psychopath like Victor a pardon just for some nookie. I need to approach him ‘bout all the other things too. Maybe he’ll talk to me and we can sort this out. Fuck… Jimbo._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just want to take a moment to holler at Owl for being amazing and selfless. Without her encouragement and whooping my butt to focus, I would have never gotten this far with writing. She makes it fresh and fun! Her enthusiasm is what drives me. Love you girl!
> 
> Harvey's POV is the driving factor for a future fic set after "Boxcutter". With Owl's blessing, I constructed this fic to touch on points not previously covered with the original fic.
> 
> I generally love my Harvey fun and snarky. He's a bit broody here but all considering, I don't blame him =)


	2. The Deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harvey meets up with Oswald to discuss the kingpin's plans for Gotham. Concerned over Jim's unhealthy preoccupation with the notorious assassin, Bullock decides to approach his best friend for a heart to heart.

 

 

A week later, Harvey is in his office. Since Jim’s absence, there have been reports of Oswald and his merry band of goons over taking rival factions all over Gotham. After the assault on the club (and the mansion, about which Harvey heard from the jailed attackers), none dared stand up to him. Oswald is great at cleaning up his tracks and instilling fear in those who would speak against him to the authorities. Harvey is sure having a lethal team that includes Zsasz and the escapees from Indian Hill is all the fire power Oswald needs.

_Penguin has really built himself a powerful force. I’m here sittin’ like a chump while Jim’s beddin’ that twerp’s elite enforcer. No tellin’ what Jim has let slide because of his fling with Victor._

Harvey lets out a rough breath and shakes his head. Jim’s secret life and Oswald’s aggressive take over of the city has left him feeling bitter, angry and overwhelmed. He takes out a bottle of Jack, a small glass, and his pack of smokes from the bottom drawer of his desk.

_Crime is droppin’ but at what cost? There’s always a cost with Penguin._

Harvey pours himself a shot of whiskey and taps out a cigarette from the pack. He then opens a window and slides an ashtray, stashed on the outside sill, over to him. He strikes a match and slowly draws the flame into the tobacco stick hanging from his mouth. He exhales a long smokey plume and takes a swig of his drink.

His mind preoccupies itself with the pending talk with Gordon. He’s played out all the different outcomes over and over in his head. He plans to approach Jim the night of his birthday party and hash it all out then.

A phone call interrupts his quiet introspection. He places his smoke on the ashtray and answers the phone.

“This is Captain Bullock.”

“Good afternoon, Captain Bullock. It’s Oswald Cobblepot. I was hoping to set up a meeting with you to discuss my plans for reducing crime in Gotham.”

Harvey can feel his temper flare at Penguin’s audacity. He grinds his teeth for a second then spits into the phone.

“Well sure; come on over! I have a pair of shiny bracelets I can put you in and we can discuss crime all you want— _when you’re behind bars!_ ”

Oswald scoffs but continues despite Harvey’s ill-tempered reply.

“There’s no need to be so shortsighted, Captain Bullock. Jailing me will gain you nothing but more war in the streets. I wager you’ve noticed how _quiet_ and _peaceful_ the streets have become since my return.”

Harvey sighs and huffs out.

“Whaddya want, Oswald? A fuckin’ gold medal? A parade?”

The small kingpin giggles and replies.

“A parade? Hmm, sounds _splendid_ , but I will forego the fanfare. All I request is a meeting so I can propose to you an idea already in the works. I think we can reach amicable terms; we both want the same thing after all, Captain Bullock.”

“Yeah, _sure_ we do. Just what _exactly_ do we _mutually_ want?”

Oswald chuckles and sucks his teeth.

“Why to make Gotham a _safe_ place for its citizens. Meet with me and we can discuss all the details. I promise you, Captain Bullock, it will be _well worth_ your time to entertain me just this once. Meet me at the docks in a couple of hours, just you and me, no one else.”

Harvey sighs.

“Excuse me, but I don’t exactly feel like walkin’ into an ambush or findin’ myself at the bottom of Gotham Bay.”

“I promise your safety; besides, killing you would do me no favors. I need a realist like yourself in that seat. What’s the saying? _Oh, yes_. ‘Stick with the devil you know.’ So, are you willing to meet with me?”

Harvey rubs his head and groans. Curiosity has a hold of him; he wants to know what Oswald has planned.

“You’ll have ‘bout ten minutes of my time and no more!”

Harvey slams the phone back down on its receiver.

 

________

 

The winds of Gotham Bay are blowing incessantly. There’s a lingering chill in the air that is only made worse by the light drizzle coming down. The daylight is dimmed under the heavy cloud cover. It seems as if evening has settled over the city even though it is only three in the afternoon.

Harvey pulls his trench coat tighter around himself as he leans on the hood of his car. In the distance, he can see the headlights of a vehicle approach. Harvey stands and keeps a steely gaze on the limo as it pulls next to his car. The back passenger door opens; Zsasz emerges from within. He eyes Harvey expectantly as he holds the door open, beckoning him to enter.

Harvey aims a cold narrowed gaze at the assassin as he stands his ground for a few seconds longer. It has no effect on the expressionless killer; Victor doesn’t offer any sign of acknowledgement, to his disdain. Harvey stomps over to the limo and enters. The door quickly closes behind him.

“Ten minutes, Oswald. Not a second more.”

Oswald is sitting back in the seat with his legs crossed. A small smile graces his face but is soon gone as he leans in.

“Oh, I think you will want more than ten minutes especially when you hear what sort of perks I offer. I have a hunch you will be _amenable_ to my vision.”

Harvey crooks an eyebrow at the small man.

 

_______

 

Thursday morning, Harvey is getting count of all who will be attending Jim’s birthday celebration in order to give Bernardo a heads up. After obtaining the list, he heads to the bar on his lunch break to speak to his old friend.

“Twenty plus attending. I’ll call Gloria and Sasha to come in and bartend with me. Mama said she’s coming in to cook; she’s making a large cake too.”

Harvey smiles brightly.

“Good ol’ Mama. I hope it’s that one with the strawberries and…”

Bernardo nods and finishes Harvey’s sentence.

“And the cream cheese. Yup, that’s the one!”

Harvey claps his hands together and rubs them vigorously with excitement. He states as he walks towards the doors.

“Ok, expect us around six tomorrow evenin’. I told everyone to use the back door so as to not confuse bar hoppers on the street.”

“Good man! See you and Jim tomorrow night!”

Harvey strolls out of the bar and decides to walk down a couple of blocks to hit up Lem’s Deli. The day is pleasant enough for the extended stroll and he has the free time to do so. He notices from the corner of his eye a vehicle slowing down and pacing him. Harvey turns and sees a dark blue Impala; his good mood vanishes.

_Zsasz._

Harvey stops and instinctively lays his hand on his concealed weapon. The car maneuvers into a parking spot a few feet from where Harvey is standing. He cautiously approaches the parked vehicle, side glancing the innocent bystanders as they go about their day. He hopes Victor didn’t come with violence in mind.

Zsasz exits his car; a large grin graces his porcelain features. He leisurely strides over to Harvey.

“Captain Bullock, let’s grab lunch at Lem’s. I _insist_.”

Victor’s posture is relaxed, his demeanor light; his eyes, however, give him away. There’s a severity to them that demands compliance, _or else_. Harvey knows damn well this visit has to do with what he and Oswald spoke about a few days ago.

Harvey grimaces and nods towards Lem’s as he continues to walk. He can feel every hair on the back of his neck stand on end. He knows if he agrees to what Oswald has in mind that he himself will be nothing more than a lapdog for the volatile kingpin.

Harvey glances at his silent companion; his stomach churns. He feels repulsed that Victor’s lips and hands had their way with Jim. He wants to pummel Victor’s face beyond recognition where not even Jim could identify who the bloody mess on the cold concrete is.

When they enter Lem’s, an old man greets the both of them. He addresses Victor.

“The usual, Vic?”

“Make it two, Lem. Give my pickle to my lunch guest here. I know how much you _love_ your pickles, Captain Bullock.”

Harvey can feel his spine tingle; he wonders how many other little details Zsasz knows about him.

Victor stops in his tracks and raises a finger as he turns to Harvey.

“Oh, wait. Or would you rather have the meatball sub?”

Victor narrows his eyes as a large smug smile pulls at the corners of his mouth.

Bullock feels his stomach cramp like he just got punched. He scowls at the taunting assassin.

_How. Da. Fuck! Wait. Jim brought meatball subs awhile back. Jeez! Was Victor with Jim while he got me lunch?_

Zsasz points to a small table at the back. Harvey marches over to it and plops down. He glares at the surface of the table unable to withstand Victor’s smugness another second.

“I take it Oswald wants to know where I stand with his big plans? Did he send you to strong arm me into a decision?”

Zsasz leans back in the small chair; his left hand disappears into his jacket. He produces a thick envelope and throws it on the table. He narrows his eyes on Harvey and evilly purrs.

“Oh, I don’t think I need’a strong arm _you_.”

Harvey crosses his arms and looks away. His legs starts bouncing as his nerves scream at him to get the _hell out of there_ ; _leave the money_.

Victor gives Harvey a smirk and points towards the offer.

“This is what monthly payments will look like. You got a _lotta_ debt. Wouldn’t it be nice to have this kinda _freedom?_ ”

Harvey doesn’t make for the envelope. He stares Zsasz in the eyes and bristles.

“If I accept Penguin’s _filthy_ money, I’m just suppose to let _criminals_ slide?”

Zsasz shrugs and states flatly.

“Filthy… clean…, it’s _only_ money. Think ‘bout all your cop friends and how they’ll benefit from this. Less work—less... _death_.”

Harvey scoffs and hangs his head. He knows he’s going to take the deal; somehow Oswald found out about all his outstanding debts. Harvey would be hard pressed to pass up the cash especially when debt collectors are constantly banging at his door. Penguin is also playing on the fact that GCPD numbers had taken a hard hit after Jerome and Tetch instilled their chaos.

Victor impatiently growls.

“You’re makin’ this harder than it _has to be!_   _Just_. _Take._ _The._ _Money... Harv._ ”

Harvey’s head whips up and his eyes flash at Victor.

_Harv? Only Jim calls me “Harv”. Who da fuck does this asshole think he is to call me by that name?! Fucker—I’m gonna get you good! Just wait!_

Harvey eyes the thick bundle on the table. He reaches out his right hand towards the stuffed white envelope but stops short of taking it. He scowls at Victor; he leans in and growls.

“ _You’re_ not good enough for _him!_ ”

The assassin blinks.

Harvey slams his hand on the offered buyout, taking it as he stands. He notices Victor Zsasz’s cocky and smug attitude instantly disappear; the man shifts uncomfortably in his seat. The corners of the assassin’s mouth slowly pull down as his jaw juts forward. Harvey challenges the assassin with a glare; deep set black eyes turn away from him.

A smug smile creeps on Bullock’s lips. He’s going to savor this small victory against the insufferable man for days. He waits a moment more for a retort but Victor offers none. Harvey scoffs and marches towards the door.

Lem waves at Harvey and holds out the wrapped sub. Bullock takes the sandwich and aims it at Victor.

“It’s on him.”

Victor stands and nods at Lem. He turns his glare towards Bullock as his lips peel back, with flashing teeth he growls at Harvey.

“Nice doin’ business with you, _Captain!_ ”

Harvey gives him a glance. Victor’s head is tilted down, chest heaving as black eyes full of murder hold steady on him. Harvey hustles out of the deli having had enough of Victor Zsasz to last a lifetime.

 

_______

 

Friday morning comes all too quickly. Harvey is relaxing in his chair as he sips on his hot coffee. He spies a familiar silhouette against the blinds making its way towards his door. He takes a deep breath; his stomach begins to cramp. Gordon beams him a smile as he walks in. Harvey’s gut wrenches hard but he does his best to mask his discomfort. He gives Jim his best smile and chirps.

“Jimbo! How you feelin’ buddy? How’s your mother?”

“She’s doing well and still can cook like no one’s business. I may need to hit the gym after work, she fattened me up some.

Harvey offers him a chuckle. He eyes his friend up and down as he leans forward on his desk. He tries keeping his demeanor light as he continues.

“Lucky! So, your birthday—yeah?”

Harvey relaxes as soon as Jim flashs a genuine smile. The detective sighs heavily as he pulls out the chair across from Harvey.

“What do you have planned?”

The detective plops down as he awaits the schedule for the evening’s events.

“Just cake, gifts, singin’ and copious amounts of alcohol. At least twenty people said they’ll come. Bernardo’s gonna close the bar just for us. So, gird your loins pal. It’s happenin’!”

Harvey smirks as Jim raises his hands in acquiescence.

“Okay, I will do my best to act like a normal person.”

Harvey claps his hand together once and smiles.

“Great!”

Harvey can see that Jim is thinking. The detective asks soberly.

“How have things been since that attack on Oswald’s club?”

Harvey can feel the return of the wrenching in his gut. His guilt over taking the deal with Oswald made for a long sleepless night. He stands and stretches.

“Quiet, my man. Word is out; Oswald practically has all of east side in his control now. I think we did him a favor to tell you the truth.”

_More like ‘I’ did him a favor. What right do any of us have to claim righteousness?_

Harvey glances at Jim who is staring at his own lap.

_I wonder what Zsasz offers him that makes lying’ to me and livin’ in secrecy worth it? It doesn’t seem to me that Jim’s workin’ for Oswald. I wonder if Zsasz will spill the beans that I know ‘bout them?_

Jim looks up and smiles.

“Well at least innocent people aren’t getting hurt. Right?”

Harvey has been telling himself that all night. He’s been trying to convince himself it’s for the greater good, this _deal_ he struck up with Oswald. His mouth dries and turns sour.

_Whatever I have to do..._

He nods with Jim’s statement.

“Yeah, sure. Well, at the very least we can focus on other things and not worry ‘bout gang wars.”

___

It’s Friday evening and everyone’s settling into the bar. Beer bottles and shots of hard liquor litter the bar top as Bernardo and his two daughters, Sasha and Gloria, hustle to serve Gotham’s finest.

Harvey watches on as Jim socializes with his fellow officers and co-workers. He can’t help but notice how everyone’s eyes light up or how excited they get when Jim is close. Everyone considers him a great man and a good friend but more importantly, a trusted authority figure. Harvey smiles; he remembers not long ago how hated Jim was when he was new to the precinct.

_My how things have changed._

Bernardo’s wife, who everyone calls Mama, is making her way from out of the kitchen carrying a three-tiered cake. On it are dozens of candles set ablaze, Bernardo dims the lights while Sasha and Gloria rally everyone to start singing “The Birthday” song. Harvey ushers Jim to the bar as everyone claps and holds up their drinks; their voices unify in song. Harvey wraps his arm over Jim’s shoulder.

“Happy Birthday, buddy! I know that’s alotta candles to blow out but don’t let your old ass get intimidated. I have faith you’ll get it all in one try.”

Jim beams him a large smile and laughs. The birthday song reaches a deafening crescendo as it ends. Everyone claps and urges Jim to blow out the candles. The detective gets all in one breath, the bar erupts in a roar of cheers and whistles.

Harvey reaches for two shots of whiskey and hands one to Jim.

“Here’s to a successful year stayin’ alive. Down da the hatch, Jimbo!”

The detective raises his glass and adds.

“Here’s to another year— _hopefully._ ”

Harvey nods as he swallows down his shot. He sets his empty shot glass on the bar and gets a slice of cake along with two beers. He hands a bottle to Jim and ushers him to the mingle. As the evening progresses, Harvey feels he’s enough liquid courage in him to have his talk with Jim.

He looks down at his friend who is leaning against him. They are seated in the back as they watch their friends revel in a merriment amongst their fellow cops. Harvey can feel a lump in his throat; he takes a deep breath in and slowly exhales.

_Just talk to him. Hear his side._

“Say, Jim there’s somethin’ I’ve been wantin’ to talk to you ‘bout.”

“Yeah? What about?”

Jim rests his head on Harvey’s shoulder then turns to look him in the eyes. Harvey is starting to have doubts but he isn’t going to allow himself to back out now.

“Let’s step outside. I need the cold air to clear my head and I don't want anyone listenin’ in.”

Harvey quickly makes for the exit and holds the door open for Jim. Once Jim is through, he places a rock at the jam to prop it open. He takes a deep breath and gets to it.

“Okay. I’m just gonna say this. Jim, I’ve noticed you’ve been different lately. Not just me, Fox has noticed too. You’ve been workin’ long hours and to be honest…”

Harvey sighs and runs a hand down his beard. He puts his hands on his hips and continues.

“I followed you one night. I was worried. You were in the Narrows. I saw you start a bar fight. Hell, you laid out five guys in that fight like it was _nothin’_.”

He can see the color drain from Jim’s face; his blue eyes large and disbelieving. Harvey approaches closer, placing a hand on Jim’s shoulder. He looks him in the eyes and adds with all seriousness.

“Jim, Fox told me you had your blood checked for the Tetch Virus twice after your cure. Buddy, is there somethin’ goin’ on? This is me, your best bud askin’, not Captain Bullock.”

Harvey can see a switch in Jim flick ‘on’. The detective’s body is stiff and his expression unreadable.

“Harvey, I’m fine. I was having bad dreams... bad thoughts. I’m fine now. It was rough going after things went bad with Lee and Carmine, but the dust is settled and I’m okay.”

Harvey nods and brings Jim in for a large warm bear hug. Despite knowing that Jim just lied to him, he’s unable to come down on him for it. He can feel his throat constrict; his heart aches for his old Jim. His voice cracks ever so slightly as he adds.

“Well, I was worried about ch’ya. I noticed somethin’ goin’ on with you. So, you really okay?"

“Really, I’m fine now, Harvey.”

Jim brings his hands up, placing both palms on Harvey’s face. He leans in and kisses his cheek. Harvey smiles sadly at Jim.

_Maybe if I can get him to admit it on his own then I can convince him to stop whatever he has goin’ on with Zsasz. Get my best friend back before he goes down in flames._

Harvey’s voice is low and measured as he asks.

“I’m particularly fond of you. I worry. Are you sure there's _nothin' else_ you’re hidin' and want to talk ‘bout?”

Jim averts his eyes from him and shakes his head. Harvey feels Jim slipping further away from him. He takes in a large breath; he shuffles on his feet as he exhales deeply.

_I should just tell him I know. Maybe it’ll scare him into lettin’ Victor go. Offer him a clean slate, a second chance. But… I haven’t seen him this happy in a long time. Who am I to take what little happiness he has? Hell, I would kill for an iota of happiness._

He brings up a hand to scratch the back of his head.

“What is it, Harvey? Tell me.”

Harvey decides to drop the matter altogether. He mutters painfully.

“Nothin’. If you’re good then I’m good.”

Harvey offers Jim a small smile as he holds his gaze. Jim’s color has gone deathly white. The detective nods and dons a thin and wary smile as he says.

“You’re a good friend.”

Harvey gruffs.

“Damn right. Well, let’s head back in.”

 


	3. An Iota of Happiness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the heat of anger and jealousy, Harvey makes a rash decision that puts Jim in potential danger.

 

In the dead hours of Sunday morning, Harvey is at his pad. He’s wide awake in bed, thinking about the failed conversation with Jim. He feels guilty over chickening out. The topic of Jim and Zsasz is as serious as serious gets and he just let it go. He tosses onto his side and closes his eyes. A large sigh escapes his mouth and his eyes pop open. He sits up and whips the covers off of him. He scurries to get dressed and rushes out the door.

_I’m goin’ to make him listen and understand that what he’s doin’ will bite him in the butt. I don’t care if he denies it. He’s gonna listen to me!_

Harvey makes it to Jim’s building around four in the morning. Jim’s sedan is there and there’s a light on in his windows. Harvey parks out back and slowly makes his way up the steps. His gut begins to cramp with each step; he feels his nerves about to give out.

_Just get in there and talk to him, chicken shit._

His head turns to look into the window by the door. He can see movement; the blinds are cracked open ever so slightly. He squints to focus between the slits; his jaw immediately drops and his eyes pop wide-open. Jim is on his knees before Victor. The pale man is sitting on the recliner enthralled with what he is doing. Jim is stroking the assassin off; both of them naked. Harvey’s shock prevents him from looking away.

He watches as Jim rises to his feet; he has a scarf around his neck. Even through his shock, Harvey admits to himself that Jim has a great looking physique. The detective slowly climbs on top of Victor’s lap as he grasps the assassin’s swollen cock. He carefully slides down on it.

Victor is reaching out to grab the scarf, his lustful expression focused entirely on the man on his lap. He begins choking Jim. The assassin picks up speed fucking his limber lover, his cock buried deep inside. Jim’s body is arched back as he places his palms on Victor’s legs. Hips undulating; his body riding the assassin with reckless abandon.

Harvey can hear Zsasz growl.

“ _That’s it_ , Jim. _Cum_ for me.”

Harvey snaps out of his shock and covers his mouth; he takes a step down then another. He soon finds himself at ground level at the foot of the stairs; he runs back to his car. Once inside, he tries to catch his breath; his hands are trembling and his stomach threatening to purge the acid inside.

He places his car in drive and slowly starts pulling away. His mind still in shock as he drives towards his side of town. All he wants to do is go home and sleep.

 

___________

 

A little over two weeks later, Harvey’s heading to work earlier than usual. He wants to catch up on paperwork and to have a discussion with a few of his people about Oswald’s plans. He also has a meeting with the kingpin later that morning to assure him of GCPD’s cooperation.

Harvey snags a newspaper on his way to the front doors of the precinct. He skims columns as he ambles through the bullpen to his office door. He stalls to read a humorous comic; he’s chuckling as he reaches for the door knob. He continues to shuffle through his office; his attention solely on the paper in his grip. His reading is cut short when his foot lands on a hard object. He looks down from his paper and see’s that it’s a stapler.

Lying on the floor are all the contents of what was once on his desk. Trays, supplies, and paperwork that had been organized neatly; everything strewn about the floor. He lets out a bloodcurdling wail.

“WHAT. DA. FU---------UCK?!!?”

Harvey slowly approaches in shock to gaze upon the chaos around his desk.

He vaguely registers Jim rushing into his office; he turns to him in exasperation. He spent a couple of hours yesterday ensuring his paperwork was organized and ready to for the morning meetings. His hard work now lay in ruins; pages of reports shuffled every which way but in the order he had them in. His eyes scan his office to assess any other damages.

“Who da’ fuck did this to my desk!? All my shit’s on the floor and —(sniffs a few times) what the hell is that smell?”

Harvey’s face is all scrunched and wrinkled in disgust; there’s an odd odor.

_Is that—ass?!_

He walks around to his desk and shakes his head in horror. He drops his newspaper and covers his mouth like he’s going to be sick. He turns to Jim and gestures wildly down at the surface, his face turning beet red. He shouts once again.

“Someone had sex—in my office! There’s imprints of buttcheeks on my desk, Jim! Buttcheeks! On! My! Fuckin’! Desk!”

His eyes are glued to the evidence of a deviant act having taken place inside his own office, within the solemn walls of the GCPD. He grinds his teeth.

_If anyone’s fuckin’ in my office it should be me!_

Jim approaches with a look of concern but it’s quickly replaced with amusement; a large smile leaps onto the detective’s face.

Harvey feels his temper pricked and he barks at him.

“What’re you smilin’ ‘bout?! It’s sick! And frankly, unprofessional!”

Jim raises an eyebrow and smiles bigger.

“What? My smiling?”

Harvey gives him a sour look and turns to open a window. He notices things are not as they should be; his ashtray lay in ruins below. There are two sets of shoe prints in the ash remnants across the concrete; the trail goes from his sill and a few steps down the sidewalk.

“Well, whoever did this came through the window. My ashtray is sittin’ on the sidewalk and there’re several boot prints below and on the window sill.”

Jim peers over Harvey’s shoulder. Harvey shakes his head at the bravado of the perpetrators. He hears Jim chime in.

“I’ll get some cleaning supplies. Open both windows; it’s ripe in here.”

Bullock nods and slides both glass panes up.

After wiping the leather couch and the desk down, Harvey’s outrage settles into a general unpleasantness. He finds a can of Lysol in a supply closet and returns to his office, dowsing the entire area in a thick layer of mist. Jim returns to his own desk to accept a call. Harvey plops down in his chair as he hastily tries to reorganize the haphazard stack of papers.

A thought enters his mind and he goes back to the window. He looks down and notices that there are indeed _two sets_ of prints, only the smaller print walks away and not _towards_ his window. He quickly exits his office. He sees officer Romero at her desk; she just entered for her shift. Harvey beckons her to follow him somewhere away from earshot.

“Captain.”

“Hey, Romero. I was wonderin’ how late did’ya stayed last night? I know you were handlin’ a buncha reports.”

The woman raises an eyebrow and quickly answers.

“I admit, I stayed past twelve hours. I had to track down some help.”

Harvey scratches his beard as he continues.

“Detective Gordon was here kinda late. Wasn’t he able to help you?

Romero shuffles on her feet and nods.

“He was but he was indisposed. He wasn’t able talk when I sought him. He was taking a phone call in your office. He must have left when I was deep into paperwork because I never saw him leave.”

Harvey’s brow raises and his hands go to his hips.

“Oh? This is just between you and me, but did you hear anythin’ out of the ordinary from my office?”

The young woman thinks a bit; her olive features are pinched deep in thought. She adds.

“Well, I heard him shout out a name.”

Harvey’s anger starts to build; he feels it in his gut first then boiling hot rage starts trickling up his spine and through his head. The petite officer continues.

“I think he shouted— _Victor_. Yeah, I’m pretty sure he said ‘Victor’.”

_Victor._

Memories of their bodies coupled together thrusting feverishly pops into Harvey’s mind. He envisions them doing their filthy act in his office, _in his very chair_. He tried burying what he witnessed deep in the back of his mind, hoping to never remember it again. The very thought of Jim allowing Zsasz to fuck him made him queasy.

His disgust isn’t over two men engaging in sex. What bothers him is Victor _defiling_ Jim with his touch, _tainting_ him.

Harvey quakes; his hands clenched into fists. Officer Romero eyes him warily; there’s concern in her voice as she questions him.

“Captain, are you okay? Is something wrong?”

Harvey shakes his head and rushes to his office. He halts momentarily at his door and eyes Jim who is busy texting on his phone. Harvey stomps in and slams his door shut. He marches to his desk and takes his office chair in his large hands. He heaves it out of the large open windows. He takes a moment to catch his breath then grabs his smokes. He plops onto the windowsill and lights his cigarette, proceeding to inhale the thick smoke nonstop. His rage starts building into hate. Victor’s smug smile in the deli enters his mind; Harvey grinds his teeth.

_Zsasz wants rub it in my face. Well, two can play dirty._

Harvey retrieves his phone and makes a call.

“Captain Bullock, I’m not scheduled to speak to you till a few hours from now. What do you want?”

Harvey scoffs; he inhales the last drag of his cigarette and flicks the butt out the window.

“Oswald, you and I have a problem. And that problem goes by the name of _Victor_ _Zsasz_.”

There’s silence on the other end then a quick breath. Harvey is sure Oswald is in complete shock over his proclamation.

“What do you _mean_?”

“Can we meet early? I think you should be aware of what your _goon_ is up to.”

 

___________

 

Harvey hustles out of his car and meets Oswald at his mansion. Several large guards escort him to the study where the small kingpin is busy on a phone. He holds a finger up as he quietly concludes the call. The small man dismisses his guards and locks the door.

Harvey sits on a leather couch by the fireplace; he eyes the small man as he hobbles over to sit across from him. Oswald waves him on to start talking.

“Well? What is it?”

Oswald’s eyes are hard; his mouth pressed into a thin line as he waits for further clarification.

“Victor’s makin’ a fuckin’ mess of things. You and I _both_ agreed that Detective Gordon is too much of a liability to include on this plan. Well, you should know that Zsasz is compromisin’ everything. He and Jim have somethin’ goin’ on.”

Harvey’s face hardens, jaw clenched tight as his gaze remains steady on Oswald. Harvey can feel a pang of regret deep in his gut. His conscience is telling him that this is the worst idea in the history of ideas. Oswald isn’t just some goon with aspirations. He is devious, able to play the long game because he’s able to scheme and strategize. Deep down Harvey knows he’s made this decision out of haste and in the heat of anger.

The kingpin erupts in outrage. He quickly stands and snarls at the captain.

“ _What!?_ What are you _playing_ at Bullock?”

Harvey shrugs and keeps his cool, Though deep inside, he is damning himself to _hell_.

“Think I’m lyin’? Keep a close eye on his whereabouts.”

Oswald’s scowl holds steady but Harvey can see the wheels in his head turning. A flicker of realization crosses Penguin’s mind and his expression relents its hardness. The kingpin’s outrage extinguishes as he returns to his seat. His posture stiff and his composure barely holding. He clears his throat and adjusts his suit jacket.

“I will _look_ into it and if what you say is true, I will take matters into _my_ _own hands_.”

Harvey leans forward and interjects.

“You handle Zsasz but leave Jim to me.”

Oswald swivels his head as his cold green eyes pale with rage.

“Are you giving _me_ commands now, Bullock?”

Harvey scoffs and holds up a hand in surrender but adds to his defense.

“Do you really want a pissed off Jim Gordon all up in your shit? He’s tenacious and resourceful, I shouldn’t havta remind you. Keep matters of your _own_ house to yourself. I’ll do the same.”

Oswald’s cold gaze looks away but settles back on Harvey. The small kingpin nods reluctantly.

“Very well; let’s touch back on that matter after more information is garnered. Shall we get to business? The Pax Penguina is ready to be implemented.”

Harvey nods.

Oswald takes out his phone and dials his bookkeeper, Mr. Penn.

 

___________

 

Later, Harvey returns to the precinct with copies of the license mock ups. He hands the copies to the cops on board with the program. Harvey knows that the cops who accepted the deal aren’t bad people. They either lost someone they loved to the violence in Gotham or have hit some hard times much like himself. Plus, everyone in his office lost a dear co-worker or partner when Jerome and his minions overtook the building. They never want to see that level of violence and loss ever again.

“If they are carryin’ this, let’em go. Report any criminals not carryin’ also report if their license expired or if they’re engaged in other acts not granted by the program. Penguin and his enforcers will handle it from there.”

Harvey dismisses the cops from his office. He runs two hands over his face and slumps his shoulders. He hears a knock and looks up.

“Harv, want to go get some food? I could go for some Italian.”

Harvey looks away from Jim, unable to stomach his presence. All he sees when he looks upon Jim’s face is Zsasz fucking his brains out. He also sees his own betrayal and the ruinous future consequences brought by his own hand.

“Nah, I’m good. You go enjoy yourself, Jim.”

Harvey starts shuffling paperwork into an outbox tray and stands. He notices that Jim hasn’t budged from his door.

“It’s been a couple of weeks since we hung out. Com’on; lay all that work to the side and let’s go get lunch.”

Harvey turns to his coat rack to grab his trench coat and hat. He walks past Jim and out the door as he gruffs over his shoulder.

“Nah, don’t much feel like hangin’ out.”

Harvey exits the precinct, his heart is heavy but his guilt heavier.

 

___________

 

A week later, Harvey is at Bernardo’s. He’s three beers in and working on a fourth. Bernardo is behind the bar cleaning glasses. Harvey hears him call out as soon as the doors open.

“Hey, Jim! Harvey is three ahead of you!”

Harvey doesn’t turn to look at Jim. He can feel his buzz wearing off quickly as his mood darkens. He sees from his peripherals the detective take a stool next to him. He’s in casual clothing; he leaves for his mother’s tomorrow afternoon.

Bernardo hands him a cold draft beer and goes about his way. Jim turns in his stool and looks at Harvey.

“Thought you said you couldn’t hang out tonight.”

Harvey takes a long sip of his beer before replying. His eyes never look over to Jim. His mind is clouded with guilt, regret and hints of jealousy.

“Yeah, thought you said you’re goin’ to Leon’s Pub tonight. What brings you this way?”

He can see Jim turn back in his stool. His hands wrap around the thick cold glass of his beer, his head bowed.

“I was headed to work to drop off some case folders. I saw your car on my way back, thought I’d pay you a visit.”

Jim chugs most of his beer. He sets his glass down and stares ahead. Harvey lets out a large breath and swallows his pride. He turns his head and offers a weak smile as he asks.

“So, whole family gonna be at mom’s house?”

Jim turns his head and nods. He offers a weak smile of his own.

“Yeah, it’s going to be exhausting. I plan on returning Sunday afternoon into work. I have some cases to go through.”

“Always the busy bee. So what’cha got goin’ on tonight?”

Harvey plays with the label on his beer bottle.

“Nothing, maybe one more beer. Then I should go. I have some things to take care of before I head out tomorrow.”

Harvey summons Bernardo and orders Jim another beer.

“It’s on me, buddy. So, what time you leavin’ tomorrow?”

“I’m hitting the road around four in the afternoon.”

Harvey raises his eyebrow at him and asks.

“Why so late? Why not leave in the mornin’?”

Jim shifts on his stool and dismissively adds.

“Got some things to take care of. So, what do you have planned this weekend?”

Harvey narrows his eyes at Jim’s answer. He shrugs and mentions in his usual tact.

“I have a couple of female friends I’ve been meanin’ to _get in touch_ with.”

Jim chuckles, his blue eyes sparkle as they gaze at him. Harvey sorely missed the sound of his friend laughing and the nights when it was just the two of them.

_Fuck, maybe I am jealous of Victor._

The both of them carry on small conversation then part ways after Jim’s second beer.

 

___________

 

The next day, Harvey is parked on the side of the street two buildings from Jim’s apartment. He plans on tailing Jim to see if he is in fact heading to his mother’s house. As much as he wants to begrudge his best friend this secret life of his, he can’t help but feel protective of him.

He borrowed a car from a friend that owed him a favor, brown paint job and nondescript. Harvey is dressed in a dark hoodie with the hood pulled over a baseball cap. He has a book over the lower half of his face to mask his beard. He feels a bit foolish for such a ridiculous get-up, but it was all he had at his disposal on such short notice. Harvey hears the low rumble of an engine.

_Blue Impala. So this is just’ta be with Zsasz for the weekend? Shit._

He sees Victor get out of his car; he’s whistling as he twirls his keys around his fingers. The man makes quick work of climbing the steps to Jim’s door. He’s let in. Harvey turns the radio on and taps his foot to the upbeat and energetic piano chords of Brazilian jazz. Anything to get his mind off what they might be doing in that apartment. Five minutes go by.

_Perhaps I should go. Jim isn’t goin’ to his mother’s house. He and Zsasz are just spendin’ the weekend fuckin’…_

Before he’s able to turn the car on, Harvey sees Victor and Jim emerge from the apartment. Jim is carrying a small suitcase to his sedan while Victor is heading to his own car.

Harvey waits for them to pull out of the parking lot and turn onto the road before he pulls out after them. After an hour and a half, Jim’s sedan exits an off ramp and parks at motel off the highway. Harvey exits as well and pulls into the gas station next to the motel. He watches as Victor comes out of the office and follows Jim into a unit.

Harvey grabs his phone and sends Jim a text message asking him to call him later.

_I need to get through to him._

After about thirty minutes, the two come out of the room, turn in the key and walk towards their cars. Zsasz quickly turns and grabs Jim by the waist, his mouth envelops Jim’s for an aggressive kiss. Victor’s hands slide down to greedily claw at his ass.

_Roadside nookie huh? It’s only been an hour and a half and you two can’t keep it in your pants?_

Jim is laughing and trying to pry Victor off, who only clamps down harder. The assassin bites at his neck before he relinquishes Jim from his grasp. Victor then does an about-face, heading back towards the office. Jim plants both feet and grabs Victor by the back of his jacket and guides him towards his Impala. Victor beams a big goofy smile and complies.

Harvey can feel a lump of jealousy settle in his heart for their energy and youth. If he was fifteen years younger, he could give Zsasz a run for his money in the sex drive department. Back in the day, he could have a new sex partner every weekend if he chose. There was never a shortage of women in his bed. These days, he found himself alone more often than not.

_I just don’t get why—Zsasz! Of everyone Jim can land, he goes for that freak? Fuck. Maybe he’s just attracted to the dangerous side of it all._

Harvey reluctantly admits that Victor does have a dangerous appeal. His presence alone brings apprehension to any challenger.

_If he hurts Jim, I’ll fuckin’ kill him my damn self. There’s no way Jim’s goin’ to his mother’s house with Victor in tow. I just wanna see what their destination is. In case Jim finds himself in deep shit._

Another hour of driving and Jim pulls off onto an exit for Rolling Greens. Harvey knows for a fact that Jim’s mother lives in this town. He follows the both of them for another twenty minutes before they pull up to a gated community.

_No. No. No. Jim…what’re you doin’?! You’re gonna to trust Victor with your mother? Fuck! Come on, Jim!_

Harvey drives past them as they halt at the guard shack. He finds a quick mart a few streets down and parks in the lot. He gets out of the vehicle and taps out a smoke from a pack. He can feel his heart in his throat and his legs begin to go weak. He sits on the trunk of the borrowed car to think and to get his strength.

He’s on his second cigarette when his phone rings. It’s Jim.

“Hey, Harv! I just got in.”

Harvey swallows his anger; his voice has a bitter bite.

“Jim, so how’s your _mother_?”

Jim’s carelessness with inviting Zsasz further into his life only adds more fuel to Harvey’s anger. Also, he agonized over snitching to Oswald about their affair; there was a high chance that Victor was followed as well. Harvey grimly accepts responsibility for whatever harm comes to Jim’s mother because of his _loud mouth_.

“...Great. She’s happy to see me like always.”

“Yeah…”

Harvey scoffs heavily into the phone. He takes a deep breath and asserts rather angrily.

“...You better _never_ let her down.”

He takes a long drag of his cigarette.

“Uh, yeah. Of course. You okay, Harv? You sound like you’re mad at me.”

Harvey lets out a sigh; he wants to focus Jim on things that are more important than his relationship with Zsasz. He wants to confess to his friend what Oswald is up to. He decides to keep it vague.

“Don’t mind me. Just on edge. It doesn’t feel right lettin’ that little asshole, Oswald, run all of the underworld. It just doesn’t sit well with me. Lettin’ criminals get away with shit, no matter the reason. The results of our past mistakes should be a testimony to how shitty it turns out for us."

Harvey knows that speech is more for him than Jim.

He takes the last drag of his smoke and flicks the butt away.

“When you get back we need to find out what Oswald is doin’. We can’t just turn a blind eye. We need to know what we’re dealin’ with before he gets outta hand.”

“Sure thing. When I get back into town I’ll do what I can to find out what he’s up to.”

“I know. Go on, go be with your mom. Talk to you later.”

He enters his car and heads back to Gotham, knowing deep in his heart he just put Jim and his mother in danger.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading Harvey's POV. Even though it is short it jumps starts the next fic in the series. Much more drama and devious schemes to come. Oh as well as sexy times because face it what is the point of reading something if there isn't some porn in it :0


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